It was in their boiling blood

So for the majority of the population, 

they see what they want and obnoxiously pluck it

from the unsuspecting tree that they will always ignore. 

For me personally, I haven't yet so harshly yearned for such things in this tenacity. 

I for some reason never learned to act on selfish impulses alone. 

Not because I've never had the impulses themselves 

because what kind of person would I be 

without the twinkling sense of disregard for others?

Perhaps I've never acted on them because I like all of this torture. 

That burning in my throat watching all that I could love 

stay perpetually caught up in a tree, 

growing and thriving while I take walks surrounded in it,

 this black spring air not yet warm enough to give life,

but very much cold enough to take mine, 

and bitter enough for me to let it. 

There are so many ways for your heart to get what it wants. 

But unfortunately, waiting for what you want to be perfectly ripe 

at the exact momet you stand beneath the tree 

just in time for it to fall directly into your hands on a good hair day is actually really hard. 

And even so, for some reason, when I have no clue what I want,

no one else does either, so I'm always a bit stuck.

But then, every once in a while, 

I'll find this one flowering tree with just this one blossom 

that just looked so ready to fall and so I waited. 

I let each petal grow in the love of the sun and the rain,

and eventually, I would nurture it with mine as well. 

But as per usual, nature's plan and mine don't coincide as his perfect petals

wrap and intertwine themselves with a perfectly straightened out stem that

I'd have never been able to give him if I'd downed the chlorophyll myself.

And God knows that I very well would have.

But each and every time that this happens, I realize that she can give him so much more

simply because they live in the same place and time, on the same wavelength,

their hearts beat in rhythm with each other and they're of the same kind. 

The fluidity of her blood now runs through his veins frantically

like the fire that would burn their tree.

Such as the spirit of their love will find its way to my lungs 

and he will flow through the open air and into someone else

who can breathe him in without being infected by his rapidly spreading, charming moss

which would prove to be even more contagious. 


I've long relinquished my roots for stalky legs. 

For an eternity, I begged for the tree to take me back into her warm embrace, 

but I suppose this was her plan.

Don't get me wrong,

the legs are beautiful, 

but all of a sudden I've forgotten what to do with them.

I've been walking for an excruciating while,

perhaps the best thing that I can do with the dying breath of that once looming tree

that caved into my whims as I did to his is to revel in her ashes and not use them at all.

I will let my body fall silent in his and her memory until I myself feel ready enough 

to find him,

or forget about him entirely. 

Human Dignity + Compassion = Peace. 

It was really hot, but I'm glad that I have no sweat glands.

As much of a person in the life business that I've tried to become,

I really can't deny that I feel like there's been such an extreme death.

Like, I can't just check my phone for things that you'll never say to me,

and I should really stop jumping every time that it rings because

waiting for your heart to start up again is like waiting for a drop

of my sanity in this world of hurt and numbed out feelings

that I wouldn't dare come close to touching anymore. 

Somehow in the midst of a drought you created a pool of toxic waste 

and maybe it was my fault because I was the one who felt anything in the first place,

but you left it there until it was the rotting mess of substance that still lives in my body because believe it or not,

some of us still need to drink in order to stay alive

in the midst of all of this chaos of a societal desert. 

I gave you the last of any water that I would ever get and 

you put it to use but the thing was, 

it was all for you-

a fact that made you happier than I ever could have. 

For some reason,

I was waiting for so long for that surprise factor. 

With you I was spontaneous in my kindness, 

somehow I never felt the need to hold back,

and I didn't even care enough to notice that my

eyelids were starting to feel like sandpaper 

as I wouldn't see you for the mirage that you are

until long after it was too late to save myself. 

You know, I had always admired armadillos, 


I kind of wish that I hadn't become the shell of myself that I saw everytime

I would gladly inhale dust. or slowly down this

eerie black pool that I had left to drown my abandoned sorrows in. 

I've been swimming in it for so long I stopped bothering to look at the tainted hue of my skin because I'm fairly certain that I've permanentally altered it beyond reapir. 

And after finally calling after you one last time before you found your oasis,

I have the overwhelming urge to allow everything in my to dry out.

Who knows? 

Maybe I'll meet a very nice cowboy

with an affinity for taxadermy and I'll be forever memorialized as a teddy bear. 

And after a while of having been abandoned in this open range,

I thought that then would be the time to embrace

the optimism that I knew would never matter.

And I suppose that from the absence of you 

will allow me to refurnish the home of my mind and I will never know 

how you repaired yours, if you ever needed to at all.

I like to think that you did,

but like I said,

I'll never know. 

Human Dignity + Compassion = Peace. 

To all ye who enter... Her

Now that sounds really physical and graphic, 

but I'm telling you right now; it's not. 

You will spot her in a common place whether it be your dreams or a crowded corridor,

and something about her will catch your eye before she had the chance to hide.

You might tell her hey, but most of your time is absorbed

in silently asmiring what could be considered yours,

but won't be until you see more of her. 

So you go aout peeling her petals back, 

and she's not saying no, 

but you'll never get that flat-out yes until you ask for it.

But that feeling of being able to be a bud amongst nothing else began to aid her in

her quest of finding herself, 

and somehow she starts to think that you too,

could be the missing part of herself that she was so close to finding. 

And for two split and fleeting seconds, you were. 

You entered her life, but once you got the memo that 

she would of course allow you into her mind and body, you let her leave you there.

And she was crying, just trying, to keep you close but you couldn't stay any longer. 

I would like to explain to you what you should have done before infiltrating what you didn't think could be a sacred place, 

but will prove to be your only safe haven when everyone else leaves.

I would like you to know that after you leave her,

she will never let you back in because

she will push you so far from her without so much as touching you. 

I would like you to know that these small details matter, but telling you about them

won't because you've already started on your path and you'll never see the consequences in your stopping. 

Human Dignity + Compassion = Peace. 

Glad I didn't cancel

So then for a while I went to the depressed place,

and it was definitely a trip that I took souvenirs from

(my arm could tell you better than I could to be perfectly honest)

as I always do. 

My mother taught me to be obedient as well as sentimental,

so I learned to relish in the unspoken rules of what's too fucked up,

and I learned to miss being the happy-go-lucky that I always thought was possible. 

And I'm not saying that it was soley you that drove me to this warranted abandon,

but rather I had scheduled an appointment with my depression and 

then right before it I realized that happiness had been booked right before it 

and I didn't really need to visit my sadness in the depth that I had. 

It was an overdue physical, if you will,

except none of my reflexes were up to par

and my body was being quite literally torn to shreds. 

I became someone that I had been fighting for a really long time,

and I'm happy that I stopped fighting her.

Sure, I have some new scars that I can name like the seven dwarves but scarier,

but perhaps now I can be the snow white that stays clean. 

I realized that I was tired of fighting, 

and that my life should be more than the day to day struggle of 

which version of myself I woke up as that morning. 

I am me, and I am a dark ugly, terrifyingly beautiful mess.

I can't quite explain that to society as I would here,

but having finally concluded my unhealthy check-up,

I think that I can walk into a bar and break all of the bottles

just to ensure that the place, not the people, 

not the people, were wasted away. 

It feels like a great time to forget who I was,

and everything that I looked up to,

just to glance forward for longer that I would look into your eyes and see 

all of the damage that I had done to myself for the sake of hating. 

I will turn the dial on the electric stopwatch of a heart that you left me with,

and it will take me  where I need to go for the time that I need to be there

until I can afford to take on a new one that runs on a more organic fuel that my tears. 

I'm so glad that you took up your physician's offer on your check-up,

but for once, I don't particularly hope that it went too well.

While I had to make sure that I was still breathing, 

you were making sure that your khakis still fit just right.

I'm so glad that your hair is fixed just the right way,

and that I'll never bump into at the hospital. 

Human Dignity + Compassion = Peace. 

And so she stopped asking

For the longest while,

there had been questions itching at the silken surface just beneath my tongue.

And having gotten wind of the fact that I, as only one person,

am not allowed to know everything, and that's a good thing 

allow those questions to fester for longer than they should.

But eventually,

I shook them off my shagged tongue like the stiff, sandy beach towel that it is. 

And so I asked the world who I was and it did more than show me. 

See, the thing I've realized about asking questions is that

the world will give you the whirlwind of answers that you seek, 

and the persons that people said world

need not tell you the answer in order to explain it clearly. 

I asked the world where it was that I was meant to be going,

and for the longest time it led me to believe that my destination was nowhere.

Not because it was the answer to my question,

but because it was a question that the earth would ask of its people.

And eventually I would find myself not satisfied with nowhere,

but nowhere in particular. 

It is not the world that molds our path, but rather 

the people who stand in our way just to show us where the walls in our minds are. 

The sights and sounds are the only necessary answers

to questions that should not be asked,

but will continue to be pondered for as long

as people refuse to clear their ears and wipe the doubt from their eyes. 

The world bejewels itself as a woman scorned 

through the wrath of veins that man brands into her body every day. 

From the unadorned simplicity found in her lack of curiosity,

she could have wandered the galaxy for ages without a single thought. 

She is spoiled rotten by seas that we drown in

while trying to simply see into one another. 

The questions that she asks are answered,

and that in it of itself will not satisfy the ravenous hunger of her molten core. 

For the answers do not exist for her satisfaction,

but rather to keep life droning on.

Human Dignity + Compassion = Peace. 

It was a one beer too many before it all kind of just burned

And so I was making my way into my car and I was just thinking about the myriad of ways that one could explain that something was utterly destroyed, 

when of course out of nowhere, 

this freak of a tree crashes into a building and demolishes it. 

Worse than than that guy that always goes bar jumping and then heads to his last stop,

not even knowing that it's his last stop.

This tree was that one train wreck from high school that everyone knew had home issues 

and probably could have benefitted from some quality therapy,

but would never get it because he didn't have the time 

and then ended up crashing his car into

a different tree than this one because he stopped sleeping.

Well, we might not all know of that one guy because

I'm betting that a lot more of us than we care to admit were that guy.  

Anyway, I think someone was already calling 911,

and it sounds really crappy, 

but I was kind of glad that it wasn't me. 

I mean, here I was watching this horrifying fire

not doing anything and that sounds terrible, 

but I think if I had tried to get help,

the conversation would start with the operator asking what the emergency was 

and I would start talking about the fact that

I have a perpetual fear of my teeth looking terrible because

whenever I would look at my father's smile I was constantly disgusted

but also how at the dentist last Tuesday I realized that it wasn't just because of his teeth. 

But none of that helps this terror in front of me, 

and neither do I with my seatbelt still fully fastened around my chest and 

my hesitant hands almost (but not really)

trying to release it from the forever-binding buckle.

I guess I'm not the best person to contact in these kinds of emergencies, 

but I've been told that when you have a really shitty Tuesday afternoon 

I can be of some help depending on how shitty it really was because 

after a while a shitty Tuesday afternoon metamorphasizes

into this massive obstruction of justice that I so happen to still be watching in fascination.

Some girls have "Grey's", and I have this hayfever of a circus act,

one disaster falling atop of another. 

Oh that reminds me, 

I have to make an appointment to talk about uncomfortable topics

that I don't even talk to myself about 

because apparently I'm supposed to not have taboo thoughts?

But I suppose the people in this burning tavern wish

that they still had appointments to make.

And after this brief pause of thought,

I realized that I hadn't blinked in eight minutes and I was tearing up.

So I shook all of this out through my ears, 

and I started up my car and hoped that someone else took the time to turn theirs off. 

-Human Dignity + Compassion = Peace. 

That one time that I went to the gym (voluntarily)

I tried exercise for the first time last Thursday.

I can safely say, I will never understand your obsession with it. 

To get my heart going that fast, 

I need only think about if I left the curling iron on at home,

or the different paths that my life will take before inevitably ending in

complete and utter disaster. 

And to have myself this sore, 

I can do laps around the same embarrassing thing that I did that one time

that I just kind of stopped discussing because there are still so many things about me

that I don't even let ME talk abou anymore. 

And to sweat this much,

there's the fact that things could come flying apart at any given moment,

regardless of any reassurance from you that they won't. 

And to have to shower for this long,

I need only remember that I can never wash my brain enough to 

forget the scratch marks that you left on what used to be rosehips, 

but are now fortresses of thorns and thistles that you water 

each time you avoid my eyes. 

And shopping for those clingy outfits that somehow make the whole endeavor easier

just to be reminded of the fact that no amount of money can pay for the damages 

to my ribs when you ripped out whatever you could find in one swift plunge of your hand. 

And all of a sudden I wondered why anyone would do this at all to begin with.

The shape of my body would improve only as my thoughts became

more and more distorted until they seemed as though they were beaten to a bloody pulp. 

All of these side effects began to worry me. 

So I asked someone who seemed to be into this type of thing, 

and I never got a clear answer as he gestured generously to his abs. 

But, as someone with the ability to extrapolate data sucessully, 

I think that the process is what does it for you. 

The chisled physique is worth all of the ache,

all for the sake of appearances. Huh.


I've never been the ideal beauty,

but for the most part, my life's been pretty happy without paying attention to that fact.

So later on that week, 

I drove to the gym (regretably, because I live within walking distance of it),

and I cancelled my membership.

New Year's resolution be damned, 

I'd never been so glad to be unhealthy in my life. 

Human Dignity + Compassion = Peace.